Page 124 of You First
By the time they were finished, Gray only wanted to sleep again. But he’d already started to wonder if he’d be allowed his laptop in the ICU. He could ask Bax to get it for him and…
HE AWOKE MUCHlater. He knew it had to be later because his body felt so stiff. Though it took effort, he stretched each limb in turn before pressing the up arrow button on the guardrail of his bed. Sitting up a little more took some of the pressure off his back, and he sighed in relief.
Seeing him move, his nurse scurried over, wearing the pleased smile he’d seen before. What was her name again?
“Oh, good. You’re awake. Your family’s so eager to talk to you. They came in earlier, but you were down for the count. Ready to see them?”
Her cheerfulness and conversation felt like an assault. Why was this so exhausting? He squinted as he read the name on her badge.
“Eh… thh…” At least it sounded remotely likeyes.He really didn’t want to see anyone or have anyone hear him try to talk, but, his parents and Bax were here, and they had to be worried sick.
Cassie the nurse nodded. “I’ll just go get them. Don’t fall asleep this time,” she said with a smile.
Gray had the strength of an infant, and sleep already beckoned, but he nodded, knowing that seeing his family would reassure them and maybe give him some answers. He had no memory at all of coming to the hospital or even scheduling the surgery.
Less than a minute after his nurse left, his mother and father rushed into the ICU, almost sprinting. He’d never seen his mom move so fast.
“Oh, Gray. Oh, Gray. You really are alright?” she cried, a half sob in her voice.
“Maaah.” Gray tried to scold her, but he wound up sounding like a barnyard animal.
The startled look on his mother’s face and the frown of concern his father wore as he stepped up behind her let Gray know they’d been told little.
Cassie followed at their heels with the marker board. “For now, it might be easiest for him to communicate this way,” she said, thrusting the writing implements into his hands.
“What’s wrong?” his mother asked, looking between Gray and then nurse and then back at Gray.
Rather than embarrass himself further, Gray uncapped the pen. Then he hesitated a moment to consider exactly what to write.“Tumor gone. Took speech with it.”
Her hand shot to her mouth with a horrified gasp. “Oh, good Lord!” But at once she shook off her frightened look, and her signature resolve took over. “Well, we’ll just have to get you into speech therapy, that’s all.” She said this as though re-teaching someone to speak was as easy as renewing a driver’s license.
Gray’s father wrapped his arm around his wife and settled his other hand on Gray’s left shin. “The worst is over, and you’re healing. That’s all that matters,” his dad said.
Gray had so many questions, he didn’t know what to ask first.“What happened? Was this planned?”he wrote.
Both of his parents frowned, but his father was the first to speak. “Well… what do you remember?”
An unwelcome clench of fear gripped his stomach. The look on their faces told him there was something worth remembering. He put the marker to the board’s surface and decided vague was best.“Not much.”
Dahlia and Lowell Blakewood glanced at each other, exchanging worried looks. Gray’s mother pressed her lips together. “It wasn’t exactly planned. You were scheduled to have surgery next week, but then…”
Gray watched her swallow, clearly pained.
“…you had a small stroke, but, thank God, Mere—” Her voice broke, and she waved a hand in front of her face, struggling to control her emotion.
“They got you here so fast,” his dad broke in. “Dr. Cates said it could’ve been a lot worse.” Teary-eyed, his mother nodded, but she said nothing else.
A stroke? The news was sobering. When he’d learned the diagnosis in November, Gray had thought he’d have more time. At least enough time to finish his book. And he had no memory at all of scheduling the surgery. How could he when he still had six chapters to go?
Gray studied his parents. They both looked exhausted. And old. Like they’d been through hell and had their fill of it. Fatigue pulled at the skin under their eyes and weighed down their shoulders. Looking at them, he knew they’d feared for his life. He knew they’d had to face the specter of losing another child.
Cecilia.
The lump in his throat startled him. The grief for his sister and the guilt he felt for putting his parents through this latest nightmare swept over him. The feelings were potent and unchecked. He swallowed hard and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Cassie clutched her iPad to her chest and spoke gently. “It’s normal after brain surgery to feel a number of emotions,” she said, seeming to give him permission to break down. “You may find them hard to control at first.”
Tears blurred his vision, and he blinked them away as fast as he could. With the side of his fist, he wiped the surface of the board.“I’m so sorry.”
